Baltimore, 1987. The top floor of a Bolton Hill rowhouse. Two young people with more hope than sense. An infant. A second-hand television. The debut episode of the “new” Star Trek. Star Trek The Next Generation intro, owned by Paramount Skydance Corporation Oh, I forgot. One marmalade cat with white paws (named Biscuit after Powdermilk Biscuits) who we rescued as a kitten from the playground where I worked. Yes, I was allergic, but - - he was tiny and starving and alone. We made the best of it. I soon learned that I should never leave butter out on the kitchen counter and that twist-ties and the plastic rings on milk jugs were precious playthings to be hoarded and hidden. We paid the rent. Biscuit ruled the roost. Even with a baby in the mix, he held his own. On the night of the The Next Generation premiere he must have felt that our attention to the television was inappropriate. With exquisite timing, Biscuit jumped up on the tv tab...
Where Columbia and Howard County Intersect